Control
by AlinaLotus
Summary: Dirty girls have dirty secrets.


_A short oneshot Inspired by the song Control, by Puddle of Mud. AU, obviously. Slightly darker, naughtier dramione. Just a warning, a bit of BDSM to follow, as well as colorful and demeaning language. _

**Thou art to me a delicious torment.**

**-Ralph Waldo Emerson**

**No kind of sensation is keener and more active than pain. It's impressions are unmistakable.**

**-Marquis DeSade**

**Abnormal pleasures kill the taste for normal ones.**

**-Edourdo, Henry and June**

**The seduction emanating from a person of uncertain or dissimulated sex is powerful.**

**-Colette**

The knowing look that Draco sent Hermione across the Great Hall was almost too much for the Head Girl to handle. His eyes, grey and cold and a pure _something_ that Hermione could never put her finger on, bored into her own, and she felt that all-too familiar swooping sensation in her stomach, that was inexplicably followed by a searing heat between her legs.

Draco smirked as he watched her shift in her seat, squirming. Merlin, he loved to make her squirm. She needed it again, he could tell by the way she had pressed her legs together, by the way she was digging her nails into the table. It _was_ rather addicting, he had to admit, and as she pushed herself away from the Gryffindor table and quickly exited the Great Hall, he also stood, leaving the conversation he was having with Pansy mid-sentence, and followed in Hermione's wake. He found her in the usual spot, the Room of Requirement, as he'd heard it called before. She was already stripping herself of her clothes, her skirt, shirt and cloak now in a pile on the floor.

"Always get right to the point, don't you, Granger? God, you're such a slut." He approached her, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him.

His scent, a mixture of fresh parchment and juniper, invaded her senses, and as his mouth crashed into her own, Hermione's will went limp, and she was lost in a torrent of soft lips and the exquisite taste of his tongue as he forced entry into her mouth. She broke away from him, and shoved him with all her strength up against the far wall of the room.

"I didn't come here to snog, Malfoy." She growled, as she began to unbutton his shirt.

"Merlin, Granger, haven't you ever heard of foreplay?"

"Some of us don't have trouble getting started on our own." She said, as she dropped to her knees and unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants down. "Ah, that's better." She said, as she noticed his dick beginning to harden. "Let's pick up the pace, shall we?" She ripped his boxers off, taking his entire length roughly into her mouth. After a few seconds of sucking him, he was fully erected.

"Enough." She heard him snarl, and he grabbed her hair, yanking her up to be level with him. She yelped, but instantly felt wetness between her legs as the pain coursed through her. "If I wanted a mudblood to suck my dick, I'd have asked." He said, his fist still grasped in her hair.

"I'm sorry, I thought..." She trailed off, breathless.

He spun her around, slapping her ass as hard as he could. "Did I say you could think? Take off those," He pointed to her underwear, and she slipped them off in one fluid motion. Draco could smell her arousal, and he closed his eyes indulgently. Merlin, she smelled like heaven, musky and thick. It turned him on beyond all reason that he, Draco Malfoy, could do this to Hermione Granger, Gryffindor's Golden Girl. He pulled her to him, her body bare, naked, all for him. She was sexier than Draco would like to admit, and she had no sodding clue, something he found even _more_ sexy.

It was a glorious sight, Hermione Granger practically gagging for him. It was only here, in this room, that he was able to see her composure gone, replaced with pure, animalistic need. What was more, Draco was quite certain that he, and he alone, was the first and only to witness her like this, and that knowledge brought out in him a side he kept chained, a side he kept hidden.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her forcefully to the bed that stood in the corner of the room, pushing her down onto it. He hovered over her, smirking in that way he had, a feeling of delicious foreboding creeping up Hermione's spine. At the top of the bed were a pair of iron wrist shackles, and without breaking eye contact with her, Draco chained Hermione to the bed.

"Just remember," He bent down and said in her ear, his tongue grazing her lobe, "that you asked for this."

From under the black cotton sheets of the bed, where it always was, Draco pulled out a silver dagger, adorned with an emerald-encrusted handle. Hermione licked her lips, her heart hammering in anticipation. He placed the blade, cool and shining in the light pouring in through the window, against Hermione's cheek. Her eyes were wide and round, and the longer he stared in them, the more he could truly see how much she wanted, perhaps needed, this.

It was rather twisted, but this sordid affair they'd been carrying on had helped them to cope with the things going on around them. It was as if the sex, the pain, the release, were their only weapons against the war raging outside of Hogwarts. Draco's parents expected him to rise quickly within the Death Eater's ranks, and likewise Hermione was expected to become a full-fledged Order member. While, in each their own eyes, those were worthy causes, they were not the futures either desired.

"Draco," Hermione said, bringing his thoughts to a halt.

Draco gave himself a slight shake, and nodded. He dragged the knife on its tip down Hermione's neck, past her collar bone, lower, lower, until he reached her left thigh. He looked back into her eyes, now almost black with lust, and dug the blade into her skin. She winced, but as he cut across her leg, she began to shudder, her back arched.

"Your blood, Granger," He said, dipping his finger into the crimson river the was slowly pouring from her wound, "is disgusting. Dirty, nasty, common. You know what you are, Granger?"

Hermione was practically panting now, the piercing of the blade letting loose inside of her so many things she kept held tight. The pain, the blood, it did it every time, it was redemption, relinquishing and sweet.

"What are you!" Draco yelled, wrapping his free hand around her throat, lifting her off the bed, and shoving her back down into it.

"A...A mudblood." She whispered, her eyes closed tight.

Draco smirked, tossed the knife on the floor, and crawled to the top of the bed and began releasing Hermione's wrists from the chains. "Now, you filthy little _bitch_, why don't you bring that cunt over here and fuck me."

Hermione's thigh was still bleeding, but it was something she welcomed, a sight she was fond of. Draco positioned himself on the bed, flat on his back, and Hermione straddled him, biting her lip as he entered her, the feeling of finally being filled by him, Draco Malfoy, bringing her so close to the edge of sanity, that she nearly came right then and there.

"Fuck, Granger..." Draco moaned, as she began to move up and down, right and left, backwards and forwards. The friction against her clit, of Draco's cock inside of her, was too much to handle, and within seconds Hermione was screaming his name, her nails dug into his shoulders, her pussy convulsing.

Seeing Hermione Granger orgasm, with her wildly beautiful curls bouncing around her flushed face, her dark brown eyes filled with instinct, was enough to make the most stoic of men lose it, and Draco's seed was filling Hermione as she desperately gyrated against him, prolonging her pleasure as long as possible.

She looked down at him, and he up at her. There was a moment, in all of their times together, that they would stop and stare at each other, unsure of what to say next, unsure of what to feel next. Honesty, Hermione knew, was not something associated with sex, or at least with this kind of sex. Truth, Draco knew, was something that a girl like Hermione didn't want to hear.

"I think, Granger, that we are done here." Draco said.

Hermione nodded, and stood from him, a feeling of emptiness taking over her as his cock left her entrance. They both dressed quickly and silently, and as Hermione was running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make it neater, Draco looked back to her.

"You're one good fuck...Hermione." He smirked, and left the room without a backwards glance.


End file.
